


Avoidance

by glitchpest



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22756519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitchpest/pseuds/glitchpest
Summary: Crowley sucks at emotions. Period. Aziraphale tries to make it easier.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 44





	Avoidance

**Author's Note:**

> This is so basic, but these two are my favorite so what can I say? 😂

Crowley didn't open up. It was just a fact. Anytime he saw himself slipping, he'd distance himself. Maybe it would be 20 years, 50, a hundred. He'd leave and come back once the air had become thinner.

It was cold. He felt cold, disconnected most of the time. It took him forever just to say more than a few sentences to Aziraphale at a time.

Today though, was something that Crowley was dreading immensely. 

"I've been honest with you, Crowley." Aziraphale said simply, but Crowley could tell where it was going. Angel was opening up to him, TRULY opening up to him. He was scared, so fucking scared.

"Please, talk to me."

"Angel, I.." Crowley paused for a minute, trying to formulate a response that was vague, yet provided enough information to sate Aziraphale's desire.

He had set himself up for this. They'd been sitting in the bookshop for a few hours now, sipping on some wine. They could both sober up entirely in an instant, but neither had decided to do so as of yet.

"I miss you." Crowley stated, swirling the wine around in his glass. "I miss how we used to be. You.."

"Crowley.." Aziraphale tried to not let the emotion show in his voice, but was failing at doing so. He quickly sobered up, but didn't tell Crowley that he had done so.

He hesitated a moment before reaching a hand over and resting it on Crowley's. This movement made Crowley's hand tense up, not relaxing until Aziraphale began rubbing his thumb along it. 

"I want nothing more than to make you happy. Crowley, you are my everything."

"I'm.."

"I.. I love you." Aziraphale removed his hand, not wanting to illicit a more negative reaction from his already loaded statement.  
"I can't imagine you reciprocating, given my appearance and nature, but I couldn't pretend this wasn't true anymore."

Crowley's heart, or whatever he had inside that gave him feeling, broke. It was almost as if he felt it shatter.

"Angel.." He took Aziraphale's hand in to his own, despite everything inside him screaming not to. 

Crowley was also sober at this point, removing his sunglasses quickly and acknowledging that if he was drunk he would be more inclined to say things he might regret tomorrow. 

Aziraphale kept his gaze focused on the floor, not wanting to look at Crowley for fear of making what he had just said very real. 

"Angel..." He repeated, clearing his throat and trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to tell Aziraphale. He had to be careful, so careful. The angel before him looked like he was made of glass. 

"I'm weak. I'm.. So weak. I just want you, angel." 

Aziraphale finally decided to take the chance and meet his eyes with Crowley's. All he could think about is how beautiful they were. All the shades of yellow blended together so seamlessly.

Crowley's face was closer to his now. When this happened, he didn't know. All he knew was that their lips were close enough that he could feel Crowley's breath. 

"Don't run away again, please." Aziraphale whispered, trying not to let the nervousness show in his voice.

He hesitantly moved even closer so their lips were a mere couple inches apart. 

Crowley closed the space, Aziraphale's lips finally meeting his own. Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley's thigh, gently gripping his pants.

Crowley was the first to break. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, angel."

"Far from it, my dear."


End file.
